Sorry
by MauMeow1
Summary: A malcadh is left at his tummfraw, A dying Obea struggles to complete her duty, and MauMeow1 tries to write poetry. One-shot based around a poem. Super cheesy.


**I wrote this little story around a poem I wrote about an Obea. I suck at writing sad stuff, so this'll probably be really cheesy. **

* * *

**Disclaimer: **_WotB and all terms and locations used in this story belong to the author Kathryn Lasky. I own nothing but the story and my poem._

* * *

Sorry:

A Poem for the Obea

The Obea staggered through the freezing snow. She had hoped so hard that she would not have to do her duty again before she finally passed into the Cave of Souls, for however important it was, it always seemed to leave her dead inside. The pup she toted with her was much heavier than usual, probably due to her old age, because he didn't look any larger than the usual newborn.

His mother had not put up much of a fight. The Obea had a deep gash above her eye, an eternal reminder of how precious the cursed babies were to their mothers'. Herself cursed with infertility, she would never get to know that feeling of burning love. It had turned her bitter at first, then sad, then cold and unreachable as stone. Her eyes drifted down to the malcadh's deformity: a hind leg and paw much too small for his body. _He might have been able to walk, but what a pain that would have been. _Legs always made her cringe. A wolf with one eye, ear, or an odd tail could hunt and run, but how would a wolf unable to flee from danger ever survive? The Obea sighed. _Most of them don't survive anyway. The snow will probably kill him._

She was so old now. Her breath rattled with a sickness that had been slowly sapping her strength since winter began. The wind and spirits sang softly, lulling the Obea's tired limbs and soul to a sleep she fought with all her might. _I...I don't think I'm going to make it...Lupus, no! NO! I have a duty...I have a life. I...can't...die while putting someone on their tummfraw!_

She would not fall. Not tonight. There was business to be completed!

Memories flashed through the Obea's head. She scanned her surroundings, searching for the nearest of her usual spots. Rising from the ground without realizing her knees had buckled, she struggled toward the den of a cougar she'd used several times before. Whimpering at the pain in her lungs, she set the malcadh down in a little dip formed by the uneven rocks. If the pup managed to survive the weather, the hungry feline would come out to find a fresh meal.

A gasp escaped her. She was so old now...so much suffering she'd seen. So much suffering she hadn't. All of it she had caused. This pain was not sharp and fiery like a wound. It was slow, soft, and quickly faded as she started to loose her senses to the coldness of the snow. _Don't..._she thought. She dragged herself up, coughing and gulping in air, and started to stumble away. _Duty. You did your duty to the back. The Order, yes, our great Order continues. B-but what a price for me...so ungrateful, Obea. So many deaths. So much suffering. The suffering I've made them endure. The suffering I will never know..._

Attempting to stop the overwhelming grief and anger, the Obea turned her head away from the pup's tummfraw. She could see his little head, his eyes and ears not even opened. His soft, dark gray and white fur was already flecked with snow. He would die soon. Because of _her_. Another life taken by the merciless, shameful, heartless Obea. No wonder all the she-wolves shrank away from her, growled, and jumped at her name!

Her eyes fluttered. She was fading, and oh how cruel it was to make her think back to all the times she'd left the unnamed to die.

She couldn't raise her voice above the softest of whispers, so she sang to herself only in her head, sang a song pleading not to keep her life but to have it taken before she had to do this again.

* * *

_Duty calls, duty demands_

_The weak, the sick, the strong, the young_

_Calling the wolves of the ancient land_

_To serve and Order, good and long sung_

_Duties cruel and duties cold_

_The cursed, the angry, the bitter ones too_

_Now I am sad and I am old_

_Here a wolf's done her duty, is her heart still true?_

_I call whoever watches now_

_For Lupus, has he abandoned his child?_

_Judge me, oh one of unseen crown_

_Why leave me to the vengeful wild?_

_Now here I am, the hated one_

_For who else walks with such heavy shame?_

_I am abandoned, and I am done_

_The one who abandoned the broken and lame_

_Lupus, take my stone guilt now_

_Scatter their cries on the midnight wind_

_Let the memory melt with snow_

_This is my final battle, and I'll never win_

_What guidance do I deserve to seek?_

_I pray now to you, the spirit high_

_But look and I see one, real and weak_

_To who for this should I apologize?_

_Can I be forgiven? Can I be forgiven?_

_Don't fear, don't cry, dear pup, don't worry_

_For you, I see now, I should have striven_

_My poor, blessed pup, I am so sorry!_

* * *

Energy flowed through the Obea's frail, breaking body. Shaking like a tree about to fall, she pushed herself up and yelped in desperation. The burst of love died quickly, but she would not be stopped. Not now. _A duty. I cannot...die...now! No! I HAVE A DUTY!_

Sobbing and fighting for breath, she turned back toward the malcadh's tummfraw. Her deep green eyes, filled with the pain that came from her soul, would hardly open. Even though her muscles must have been working, she could not feel them or their movements. Love could not keep the aged wolf alive any longer. A final cry escaped her as the disease took from her the very last thing she had.

In a final act of remorse, she threw her thin body toward the stones the pup was nestled in between. She fell, slumping down less than a foot away from what had become the most precious thing in the Beyond to her. Her last breath slipped away into the gray and white sky. _Save him_, the Obea thought. _Save him for the ones I could have saved...save him with my death...please save him...please save him..._

_I'm sorry._

* * *

**Let me know how cheesy it was! Review! Parmesan? Limburger? Cheddar? **


End file.
